


Ash needs no pants

by ermengarde



Category: Supernatural
Genre: imported from LJ and Unedited atm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-12
Updated: 2009-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-13 05:40:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9108955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ermengarde/pseuds/ermengarde
Summary: Ash was pretty sure he was dead. There'd been fire and an explosion and about eighty demons and he hadn't beenthatstoned





	

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has been imported from my old LJ fic journal in order for me to delete all my content from LJ's servers (now in Russia). I WILL be tidying all my imported fic up (and removing any duplicates), but it'll take me a while. Sorry for the spam/feed clogging.
> 
> Please note, some of the fics imported in this batch are over a decade old. Fashions in fic posting have changed and I've grown as a person and a writer - enter at your own risk, but if you find anything problematic please do let me know and I'll fix it as a priority.

Ash was pretty sure he was dead. There'd been fire and an explosion and about eighty demons and he hadn't been _that_ stoned, although he'd been surprised at how quickly your nerves burn away and everything stops hurting. So, yeah, dead, right? He collapsed back into his ratty old recliner and sparked up. Logic dictated that there wouldn't be weed in heaven, so this must be somewhere else - Jesus may have turned water into wine and all that shit, but church had always seemed real clear on THC and other chemical stimulants. Although weed grew like, _everywhere_ , so it's possible that church was all a giant game of telephone.

He did _look_ but there were no clothes anywhere in his room, and he figured Ellen wouldn't be around to shout at him if he was dead. Unless he was a spirit. He thought for a minute and shrugged; shit, if he was a spirit she'd be too busy rock salting him to berate him about having no pants on. Anyway the empirical evidence was that he wasn't a spirit, given he'd been all burned up along with the bar, and it seemed kinda unlikely that he'd only revived into his ghosthood once they'd rebuilt an exact replica of his joint.

So, right, dead and shit. He'd kinda been hoping for valkeries and beer but whatever, he opened the door and... Oookay. Not the bar then. Man, this place was kind of trippy. He lifted his hand up to his face and waved it, but it wasn't leaving trails and there was only one of it. Huh.

"You're not supposed to have your own room."

There was a short person talking to him.

"The _whole point_ is that you're out here, having you guts removed like everyone else."

Short, little, female, person. With _pigtails_.

"Well?"

It was standing with its hands on its hips.

Ash chuckled and took another toke. "Don't harsh my buzz kid." He waved his joint at her. "Maybe you're just on the wrong pay grade to get a room."

He didn't hit kids and he didn't hit girls, even if they were indescribably annoying, and he sure as hell had no idea what was going on but the look of consternation on the kid's face was priceless.

He turned away from the fiery pits, spun his sign round to announce that Dr. Badass was, indeed, in, and went back into his room. Now he just had to check out what kind of wireless you got in hell.  



End file.
